"What does 'duty' mean?" Cyrus asked me as our horses strolled happily. He and Ice were ahead a few feet and between how slowly Tails moved and my moody dwelling, he'd actually jolted me with the question.

"Beg pardon, sir?" I shook myself.

"Duty," he said. "You said 'duty doesn't rest' the other day."

I shrugged. "It was something Sam said to me when-"

"I remember that. In the stables." The blossoming trees rustled under a light wind, carrying their discarded petals down over us like snow. "But I'm asking what duty means to you." I wasn't sure if he'd felt the same reminder of Ísfjall's mountains that I did. Or if he were even from the higher parts of home.

"I don't understand the inquiry, sir," I sighed. "Would you like me to break down the etymology of each word, or-?"

"Just duty's fine. Is that something that's important to you?"

"He asked the Princess," I croaked.

"Court and class has nothing to do with finding worth," he said, appearing beside me. "Duty isn't important to Sam. In fact, as you may have gathered, he uses that particular word ironically. But you seem to believe there's a real weight behind it."

"I hadn't realized you were a philosopher, Mr. Evergreen."

"You call your knight Eli but you can't call me Cyrus?" he moaned. "And no." His hand pressed softly to the small of my back. "Relax. You're stiff again."

I squirmed closer to the horn to escape, worried I'd feel that spark. "I don't understand why this saddle is so... uncomfortable."

"Because you're stiff," he said.

"How am I supposed to break a horse I'm not even riding, anyway?" He didn't answer that. "I feel like there should be riding involved."

Ice snorted, I thought, in agreeance, settling with Cyrus' touch to her neck. "...You are riding," he said, shushing her after.

"Tails. The world's most proper gentleman." I groaned. "Why do you get-?"

"No chance you'll run out of questions, is there?"

"Beg-"

"-Pardon, sir!" he mocked me. By the end of it I was seriously trying to ignite him into a spontaneous act of combustion. Finally he hummed, "You two don't even know each other. Let her catch your smell."

"My smell," I scoffed.

"Yes. Ice needs to get used to having you around. So avoid your natural unpleasantness. It doesn't make you friends."

"No," I chuckled. "No, I suppose I should adapt a better approach. Perhaps I'll make people I know nothing about feel badly for how strangers perceive them, highlight their already known flaws, and then give them unsolicited advice about them. That feels more natural in attracting friendship." I looked pointedly at him as he raised a brow.

"How long have you had that one ready to go?" he laughed.

"It's not funny," I told him. "You're quite horrible. Gone are the days you accuse me of being nice, at least."

"Are they? I'll admit; I'm still figuring you out." We made it to the top of the hill and paused so that Cyrus could tell me which way the castle was to our current location. We'd ridden far enough to lose sight of it with all the variations in land, and though I'd never admit it in the moment, I was happy to have his sure-sense. It was too easy to feel lost in the rolling hillside without it. Without him.

I sighed. "...I imagine Sam and Aggy are having fun wherever they are."

He didn't take the bait and continued to guide me. The chapel I would be married in was to the east. I committed it to memory by associating it as the closest 'marker' I'd have to home. After the vows were said, that's where I could go.

There was an old farmstead north, though no one lived there, and a little past that; an iron smith. I cringed internally at the latter, leaping to another subject to take my mind off of fiery steel.

"They're intimate then?" I asked. "Is it just her or are there others?"

Cyrus barely looked at me as he led Ice carefully down the other side. He shushed her another time, stroking her hair. "Easy, love."

"You don't have to shield my feelings. I want to know," I explained. When he remained silent, I went on. "Why did you agree to this? You barely speak to me unless it's to insult me and-"

"I have yet to insult you," he hummed.

"You told me I was unpleasant."

"Did I?" he said.

"Yes." I followed him, gripping the reins a little tighter. "And naturally so. I'm only asking you to spare me from a life of uncertainty. You're a kind man, I can tell."

"I'm really not," he tried.

"If you aren't, it aids me just as well! Go on, hurt my feelings with the harsh reality!"

"Princess-"

"In Oreia, we have a saying-"

"And I'm sure I've heard it!" I huffed, shifting on Tails, and soon, Cyrus let out an irritated breath and gestured for me to continue. "Fine; what is it?"

"Well I'm not going to tell you now," I cried.

He hung his head. "Oh pray, why not?"

"...I wouldn't want to be unpleasant."

"Are we still on that?" he tsk'd. "I apologized."

"No, you didn't."

"Didn't I? Well I meant to."

"Still not an apology, sir."

"Just tell me the saying. So that I may escape this Hell cycle. Please."

"Why don't you guess it instead?" I sneered.

"What?"

"You're the expert on every Oreian saying ever. It shouldn't take you long."

"Princess."

I didn't bend and he grunted, and then Ice did, too. "Even the horse agrees with me."

"The horse is agitated," he corrected.

"Then stop agitating her, sir."

"Fine. Stew in your-"

Isaac stomped, revisiting the two or three feet she'd already passed. We shared a worried look, and I lowered my voice. "If you call a wolf, you call the pack," I said.

"...What?" he whined. "What incoherent nonsense is that?"

"Well it would've made more sense if you'd have let me say it when we were on the topic but-"

"What topic?"

I flustered, "Ugh! Please, sir. I am trying to get there!"

He shook his head somewhere between disbelief and disappointment.

"It's just. It's been my experience that... rakish fellows travel in packs. Much like wolves. So, between the facts I've gathered-"

"Oh, Christ," he scoffed, eliciting a gasp out of me. "What facts have you gathered?"

"If you let me finish-!"

"I-"

His mount shuffled backwards, threatening to march or rear. Cyrus tightened the rein, singing; "Whoaaa, eyyy. None of that." When she calmed, he glared my direction.

I adapted an even sweeter tone, masking the venom. "One. You are not particularly offended by the Prince's behavior!"

"I never expressed that."

"Two. You made a poor joke about being a rake as soon as we were alone-"

"Poor taste; hardly fact."

"Well." I looked between the two of them. "How would I know? You never answered me. Are you a rake?"

He didn't respond.

"A resounding yes."

"Must everything be a debate with you?"

"Do you deny the accusation?" I spat.

"Yes," he said. He rolled his shoulders, telling me I'd struck a nerve.

"You ranked very highly on most the ladies' lists of charmers."

"List of what?"

"For someone nowhere near the court, you certainly are well known."

The strap went back at his command and he maneuvered Ice closer to my steed so that he could lean in. "I've known a few women. Yes. Even women near the court. But I'm not a rake. I'm afraid I don't fall into the right social class for your opinion of me."

"You dress nicer than-"

"I get on!"

"Clearly. If not rake, would you prefer the term-?"

"Whore?"

I jumped.

"Would you?" he added. "My. How quick you are to cast judgement on those willing to keep you company."

"I didn't force you out here," I hissed.

For a moment we said nothing, and I watched as what I had said shaped his face. "I'm sorry," I relented. Cyrus was still for a moment longer before the lines of his jaw slacked. "I am happy for your company." I gathered my hands, my eyes falling to them. "At least you're frank. Honest. Everyone else here dances around me like a set of china, or they comment on my wild nature... They don't talk to me... At best they talk at me or near me. Maybe then just to hear themselves speak."

"I see you've met Lady Rose."

"...Ha!" The ease of my laugh brought a genuine smirk to his lips, even if it faded as fast. "Well. I am pleased to know it's not just me you hate."

"I hardly hate you. But you'll find my inner circle is small," he settled. "Alright. Ask me again," he said. "Honestly, you went on and on before. I wasn't trying to be 'horrible', I think I just grew old, died, came back to life, and then got lost within your endless string of words before I could think about my answer."

"...That one was a bit excessive," I hummed.

"Noted. I apologize."

"Thank you."

"So. Your question. Ask me."

"I don't need to be scolded twice."

"Is that all it takes to kill your curiosity? That's upsetting."

"Oh please, as if-"

"Just ask me," he insisted.

I dropped my tone, conspiratorially. "...Are you a rake?"

"No," he said decidedly.

I rolled my eyes. "I thought you were going to be honest with me!'

"I am being honest!"

"Oh, are you? I find that a difficult thing to believe when every lady knows your name and the color of your eyes! Why do they gossip about you and Lydi-?" The name stuck in my throat as I realized I had no idea why I even cared about her.

Cyrus came to a stop and nodded, "Go on. Finish it."

I shook my head. "I've lost my thought."

"You're a lousy liar... Miss Swift and I parted ways mutually though no one wants to believe it. That's why they gossip. Our split was not because of misconduct from either party. Further, while Sam is my dear friend, we are not the same man. There was never a threat of unfaithfulness in the relationship. Just a lifetime of unhappiness. In the future, I would implore you to investigate your company's appetite for scandal beyond face value."

"I, I didn't mean-"

"You needn't apologize. You're eighteen. Have you ever been in love? I don't expect you to understand the complexity of its snares."

"...Many people are unhappy," I started. "If you were a team... You could-"

"Pray; don't pry into my personal affairs, Your Highness. I know my character." Cyrus looked to the horizon. "We ought to head back. It looks as though it may storm."

"Does it?" I ignored the dropping temperature, hexed by a strange desire to comfort him somehow, but before I could really see the sky for myself, he'd redirected us towards the castle.

The air I took in fell short of being enough to calm my nerves and, out of a want to right the scales between us, I blurted; "I had this silly notion-"

Cyrus looked back at me, as I came to a reluctant stop.

"... Um." My stomach knotted. "I had this silly notion that the Prince and I would be ... new to sex. Together. That our wedding night or some unseen force would unite us in an unbreakable matrimony... I know it's stupid," I said. "But I-"

"It's not stupid," he uttered. "To want to matter... You've truly never been with anyone?" he asked.

"What kind of question is that?" I cried. "Do I strike you as someone who's-" I frowned, fidgeting under his scrutiny. "Is virginity such a rare thing in this empire? You have so many crucifixes everywhere, how could anyone even- WHAT?"

Cyrus jerked his head just once to dismiss it. "Nothing."

"You're staring at me. I haven't! No one. Ever. I'd hate to bore you but the closest I've been to a man - well he was just a boy. And it was just a kiss, and I was six. It hardly counts. ... Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's... I'm just..." he shut his mouth. "I'm sorry your marriage will fall short of your hopes." He started clicking his tongue and miraculously Tails trotted us up to his side at an unprecedented speed.

"How did you do that?" I whined. "Has he always been able to move so nimbly? This whole time?"

"Tails and I have been friends for many moons," he said. "One day you will know Ice the same."

I found myself nesting into the idea the way he'd painted it and with that, came an eerie state. A trust in hearing his assurance. "Truly?"

"Do you not have horses at home anymore?"

"Anymore?" I narrowed my eyes.

"Sam," he added. "He said you liked horses. I assumed you had one."

"Oh. Yes. I have four."

"Four?"

"Well. Technically they're my father's." I patted the stallion. "Though he does let me ride them. And brush them. One day they'll be part of my inheritance."

"...What are their names?"

I stretched a little taller. "Well they're certainly better than Tails, I can assure you."

"As you stall."

I laughed; caught, and tried to mutter their names out to somehow make them less awful.

"I'm sorry did you say Brian?" he asked.

"Yes, Brian," I announced.

He blinked. "Brian? You have a horse named Brian?"

"Yes, and Fiona. And Reginald. And Bishop."

"You laughed at 'Tails'." He shook his head. " I think you might be worse at names than I am."

"Edith isn't terrible?"

"Henry named her."

I laughed, playing with the lead. "Well God forbid we ever have children, they wouldn't stand a chance."

Cyrus' brow furrowed. "Come again?"

"I meant, separately. Of course." Why had I said that? "Like perhaps we would benefit from hiring a third party to assist us in-" A crack of thunder tore across the field both scaring and saving me at once.

"Cock it!"

"What was that?" I yelped.

His face scrunched and with one hand he jerked Ice's strap. With the other he gathered mine and did the same. "Let's hurry," he said.

We passed into the barn moments after it had started to rain; the downpour enough to effectively soak through our clothes. I shivered, taking Cyrus' hand, happy to dismount and plant myself firmly into the dry ground. Without much of a drawl, he vanished into the back and came out with a blanket that he draped over my shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he sang, patting my cheeks with it and clearing the stream from my flattened braid.

We met eyes carefully, but as soon as the moment was realized by each other, he let go and wrung his shirt. I caught glimpse of what was under it; a bare abdomen, very defined. Cyrus carried on, unaware of my prying eyes to desaddle and pin our steeds.

I racked my brain for any resemblance of a word. "Is this one of the horses'?" I asked finally.

He replied without looking up, "It's my own."

"I hadn't expected the weather to shift so abruptly. What with the heat," I rambled. "It's been-"

"You don't have to stay," he told me. "Apologies for having you caught in the storm, but you are free to go. I'll finish here."

"Oh." I pulled the fabric tighter around my back. "Well, it's still raining." I noted.

Cyrus' eyes traveled to the open threshold, where the rain created splattering puddles at the floor. He watched it fall for a second and finally moved to shut the door. It creaked as it rolled to a close.

"If you prefer I-" I started. "I can go. I'm already wet."

His brow went up with the end of my statement, an emphasis on the first moment he'd maybe seen me since we'd come back.

"Well I am?" I said. "Completely soaked."

"Then wait it out here. What do I care?"

"Are you?" I narrowed my eyes, "Are you angry with me again? I thought we were jesting earlier. If I-"

"No," he frowned.

"It feels as though you are." I stepped behind him, passing into the long corridor behind the stalls.

"Where are you going?" he groaned. Soon, his hand found my shoulder, twisting me around and bringing me by him, back into the front. "Don't wander."

"Why not?" I asked. "Who knows when the rain will stop and-"

"The cots are that way," he told me, naming his point. "No place for a woman, let alone a lady."

"Oh," I took a step back. "Oh, no. I was looking for the grooming kit... I.. "

"I'll groom them when you go." Another lull came and went as he took a very deliberate breath and cracked his neck. "You don't have to call me sir, either," he stated.

"It's common courtesy, Cyrus." We caught the name at the same time, producing a grin on at least one of us. While my face bent with worry I'd crossed an unseen line, Cyrus' shaped itself into something... happier.

"That's better," he said.

Before I could address the mistake, the door slid back, inviting sunshine and an old, muttering man.

"Now how did this come to be closed?" He stopped, looking closer at the two of us. "Alas, sorry, my boy. I hadn't known you had yourself a lass in here. I'll come back."

"Henry," Cyrus met him, helping to secure the latch. "This is the Princess. Sam's wife."

"Wife, eh?" Henry asked. "Did I miss the Royal Wedding? How long was I gone? The road to town must be gettin' longer. Or me older." He snickered at his own joke, bobbing his head, and shuffling by. "Princess, Princess."

"It's lovely to meet you." I curtsied which only baffled him,

"... Is she lame?" he asked the other.

"Wha-?"

Cyrus waved his comment off. "She just does that."

The man sighed, then gave me another once-over, turning to whisper to my companion.

"Yes," Cyrus replied. "I'd noticed."

It flustered me, not knowing what Henry had said.

"So what is it, girl?" Henry asked. "You don't have ostlers back in yer palace? Who manages yer horses?" I opened my mouth, but had no time to contribute, as he added; "I'd be willin' to bet, we workin' hands are much the same anywhere you go. No need to stare."

"I'm not staring," I said. "I just hadn't expected anyone to-"

Cyrus pulled the blanket from my shoulders and balled it up to hand back to his partner. "Her Highness and I rode until the rain. As it has cleared, I'm sure she'll be eager to find herself into warmer clothes."

Henry laughed again, stroking Tails in his stall. Cyrus glanced at me. "Allow me to escort you?" he asked, immediately clearing his throat. It drowned out whatever comment Henry made. "To discuss the details of tomorrow's ride."

"Tomorrow's ride?" I parroted.

"I can do the day after, if you have prior arrangements."

"I wasn't aware we'd agreed to maintain this charade, sir." He cringed at the name.

I think we both felt the ostler's intrusive eyes on us as Cyrus took little time to excuse us into the yard.

Cyrus and I walked along the path back towards the castle, in a strange ambience. The garden still held onto the droplets of rain it'd seen, but every maid, every footman, every person we passed was very dry and we were very much not. We drew every eye.

"I'll apologize for Henry. He's a meddler."

"I didn't notice meddling? Why? What did he say to you?"

"Can you manage past this point?" he buzzed as we came to the gate.

At my confusion, he gestured to his clothing as an excuse. "I'd like to change."

"I'm wet, too." I said, an attempt to comfort him.

"Eeey," he whined, rolling his neck. "Don't," he started, looking over us and speaking hushedly. "Don't say that, Princess. It doesn't - it isn't as innocent as you intend."

My cheeks lit, by that alone, though I had no idea what it was he thought I was saying or why it wasn't innocent. "Oh," I leaned in. "Pray, what does it mean then?"

Cyrus' mouth pursed. "It's no matter," he landed on before straightening out and crossing his arms over his chest. "Do the afternoons work for you? Or would you rather we start sooner? Sam picked this time."

"I've always been a morning bird, but I'd be more concerned with what works for you," I said. "You're the only one of us with an actual purpose here. And you seem to help Henry quite often. Is this eating into-?"

"I help Henry because I'm bored. My role, my purpose as you'd call it, is to ready His Highness for the swordsmanship events at the Games ev'ry year. As those have passed, it'll be Autumn before I'm needed again. Beyond Wednesdays."

"But you are friends. You go places; to town together. I'm sure you've-"

"If you do not wish to continue riding with me, say it." His eyes were serious. "It will save us both time, and my nerves, as I am not in the habit of forcing women to do things."

To do things bewildered me, and I wasn't sure if he'd meant to bring that notion into play. "Well I didn't say that." I smoothed my blouse. "I just don't wish to be a burden to you, by our Prince's command. And though you aren't the ostler by title, I'm sure you'll remind me, you seem to spend a decent amount of time working for or on his behalf. I know how long those hours can be, and-"

Cyrus made a point to look at the sun, now relaxing into the horizon as the world brought on the evening hours in its place. Shadows danced across his strict jaw as he turned back to me with an annoyed expression on his face. "Do you?"

"I do. I once-"

"I find it difficult to believe the Princess knows anything about a hard day's work." I stood there without a word to say in my defense but his mouth opened, "I meant-"

"-Good night, Mr. Evergreen," I offered, fleeing into the foyer. I'd heard him protest as quickly as I'd stepped off, but there was not a force in the world to stop me.

Not even Cyrus Evergreen.

What a stupid name.

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